Devil's Love
by SparrowWriter64
Summary: He never told Van his feelings. After Carl is captured by Dracula, he thinks he never will. But while in the castle, his affections begin to change. He couldn't be falling for Dracula, could he?
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing or any of the characters in the movie. However, if you ever visit my fantasy land, both Dracula and Carl are mine.  
  
Devil's Love  
Chapter One  
  
Carl ran, ran faster than he ever had before. Unholy shrieks echoed in the sky, resounding in his ears. Villagers dodged around in him, trying to get inside, away from certain death. Carl knew he should take cover inside as well, but he had to find Van. He didn't know why, he just had to.  
  
There was the hunter, one foot on the edge of the well, crossbow in hand. His finger was wrapped tightly around the trigger, ready for any attack. Van was the only one in the mass who seemed calm, at ease, which Carl found amazing. But then again, many things about Van amazed him. Anna Valerious stood near Van, sword at the ready, her eyes locked on the sky. They were the ones who had any chance against the vampires, not he. All Carl had was one bottle of holy water clutched in his hands.  
  
Then he saw her. Hurtling down out of the sky, a shriek on her lips, was one of Dracula's brides. Carl tried to yell at Van, to warn him, but he couldn't. His voice refused to work. Unfortunately, the hunter was preoccupied with the other bride swooping down at Carl. Van raised the crossbow, sighting quickly along the shaft, and then releasing it. The bolt skimmed over Carl's shoulder, drawing a thin, dripping line of blood.  
  
Carl didn't notice the cut, or the ear-splitting scream as the arrow slammed into the vampire. He raised his arm and flung the bottle of holy water as hard as he could.  
  
Van had whirled around on his feet and had already raised his crossbow; since he had dealt with Carl's problem, he would now deal with his. He could see Anna coming to his aid, sword in the air, out of the corner of his eye. However, he didn't need her aid. His finger closed over the trigger. A bottle smashed into the vampire.  
  
Glass shattered, peppering Van as he hurriedly protected his eyes. Water dripped on his face and shoulders, pleasantly cool. But the vampire screeched as the same water burned into her skin. Van turned his head a fraction to see Carl, who had froze, arm still half in the air, a shocked expression on his face. For a moment, Van almost smiled; Carl had just shown bravery not usually seen in a friar.  
  
"Van Helsing!"  
  
Anna's voice tore through the air. Van's distraction had not lasted long, but long enough for the bride, still recovering form the holy water, to lash out. Her clawed hand caught him across the chest, ripping into his skin and throwing him to the side.  
  
Carl was jarred from his shock as van tumbled into the dirt at the foot of the well. He took one step, prepared to run to Van's aid, when a broken arrow clattered on the stone near his feet. A black-fletched arrow, Van's arrow, clean of blood. Carl once again began to run for his life, once more hearing an unholy screech in his ears. But mortal feet could not outrun the wings of the immortal. A pair of hands, a woman's hands, latched onto his shoulders, lifting him into the air. Carl's eyes widened, looking at the vastly-shrinking ground, focused on the man at the foot of the well.  
  
"Van! Help me!" he cried out, this time finding his voice. But, unfortunately, so did the vampire holding him, at the same time.  
  
"My sisters!"  
  
The bride's voice drowned Carl's. The friar knew he was probably too high up in the air to be heard now. But he still shouted. Anna was at Van's side and the hunter was on his feet, disregarding the bleeding gashes on his chest. Neither one even noticed Carl in the bride's grasp.  
  
"Silence him!" one bride, a red-haired woman, hissed. She glanced at the ground, making sure once more that the hunter hadn't heard Carl's cries. Then, Carl knew nothing more.  
  
End of Chapter One  
  
Ok, I think I should clear some things up first before you review. First: I do know the brides' names, but it's being told more from Carl's POV (though it's not in first person) and he doesn't know their names yet. Two: Yes, I will refer to Van Helsing as "Van", not "Abraham" or "Gabriel". Only when Dracula talks about him will he be called "Gabriel". Thank you for reading (I'm not the best romance writer, but I hope you at least got the feeling that there was something between Carl and Van, if a little one- sided). I hope to have the next chapter up soon. Please review! 


	2. Chapter II

Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing or any of the characters. I just write fan fiction and put up their pictures on my wall. Especially those of Dracula and Carl.  
  
Devil's Love  
Chapter Two  
  
Carl's eyes fluttered open. His first fleeting impression was of a dull, throbbing pain. The second was the fact that he knew not of where he was.  
Sitting up, his cloak falling off his shoulders, he took stock of his surroundings. The room was sparsely furnished, but still looked more luxurious that the homes of the village. Carl was on a bed, on top of the blankets, the pillow rumpled from the weight of his head. A fur rug covered the cold stone floor and a small nightstand was next to the bed, an unlit candle resting on its cracked surface. A windowsill seat was draped with a fringed blanket and one small pillow. The window itself was covered by heavy, dark curtains, blocking out the sunlight (if there was any) and blocking Carl's view.  
Feeling stiff and still experiencing the small, throbbing pain, Carl tried rolling his shoulders. The pain became suddenly worse for an instant, throbbing more powerfully, and he felt something wet slide down his back. Pulling aside his robes just enough to see his shoulders, to see a small, lightly-bleeding cut and deep bruises, memories of the attack (How long ago? he thought. How long have I been here?) returned to him. His first thought centered on the hunter, Van Helsing; was he recovering from the injuries of the vampire bride? Where was he? Where am I? Carl thought dismally, wiping at the small trickle of blood with his thumb.  
Suddenly, a man was in the room with him. Carl jumped back, startled, against the wall, frozen. The man brushed back a strand of dark hair and seemed not to pay attention to Carl. His hair and black clothing contrasted startlingly with his pale skin, making it seem, if possible, paler. He finally turned his head to look at Carl. "I thought I heard your heartbeat," he said, a wry smile on his lips. His eyes, however, lingered on Carl's bleeding shoulder. "It echoes quite loudly in these halls."  
Carl realized who this man must be. No, not a man, a monster. A blood-sucking fiend who killed innocents. His black eyes seemed to capture Carl's, paralyzing him, thinning out his breath. But there was something, just something, in Dracula that reminded him of Van...No! If Carl had been able to shake his head, he would have done so furiously. Van asked forgiveness for his kills, Van was a good man. Dracula, he killed innocents, no second thoughts about it. He was wrong to compare a man like Van to such a...a_ monster_.  
Dracula's eyes released Carl, turning to once again gaze at his blood. Carl moved his hand to cover the cut; it wasn't bad at all and had nearly stopped, but the vampire would be irresistibly drawn. He knew that no matter how much he hid it, the faint traces of the blood's scent were in the air. Dracula strode, slowly, as if he had no care in the world, toward where his captive sat. Only the cold fact that there was no where to go but out the window (and Carl expected the room was most likely high up) kept him from jumping off the bed and running. By now, the count was too close for any escape attempt.  
Carl's breath grew ragged, harsh, in his fear as Dracula leaned over the narrow bed, his face close to the friar's. To Carl's morbid fascination, the vampire's foot was tapping a fast, steady rhythm on the rug-covered floor. A rhythm that matched his heartbeat perfectly. Now made aware of it, his heartbeat suddenly sounded too loud, resounding in his ears and bouncing off the walls.  
"How strange," Dracula said, speaking in a quiet tone. "Your heart beats so fast. Where is your bravery from earlier; the bravery that allowed you to throw the holy water on Mirashka? What do you fear now, little friar?"  
The "little friar" gulped. Why? Why couldn't he be strong like Van? Or maybe Anna? Either one could've stood up to this man. Carl regretted the fact he had not taken a silver stake from the arsenal. Now was the perfect opportunity, if he could've moved.  
A sardonic smile was on Dracula's face. He's enjoying this, Carl thought, he's enjoying my fear. That angered Carl, a little. But enough to give him enough courage to speak. "I-I'm not...afraid..." he stammered hoarsely, trying his best under the circumstances to sound brave.  
"Oh?" The corner of Dracula's mouth twitched. Suddenly, he was sitting on the bed next to Carl, languidly leaning against the wall, pulling a loose thread from his cuff. Carl jumped back, knocking his shoulder against the wall. He was quite sure he just added another bruise to it, or at the very least, a scrape. Dracula's dark eyes were on his shoulders again, not on the healing cut this time, but the bruises.  
"It seems Verona was a little rough with you." Dracula stretched forth his hand in what Carl supposed was meant to be a friendly gesture. However, it was far from friendly in his eyes. "I can heal you, if you wish," the count went on, seemingly oblivious to the look on Carl's face.  
The friar gulped again, his mouth dry. It was sure to be a trap. Why would his captor (and Dracula, of all people) offer to heal him? This thought buzzed in his head, knocking on his skull. What was going on? He wasn't dead; Dracula was in the same room, but he wasn't dead. "W-what do...you want f-from me?"  
"I simply asked if you wanted treatment. After all, you are a guest in my castle. I would hate for you to be uncomfortable."  
"D-don't touch me!" Carl stood, backing against the wall, his leg knocking against the nightstand. Dracula remained seated, his face no different. Carl's hand groped for the cross around his neck, grasping it, praying to God for courage. "H-how long am I a 'g-guest in your castle'?"  
"Until your Van Helsing comes to get you." Dracula appeared silently at the door, as he had when he had come. He smiled dryly, his fangs hidden. "If you wish for nothing more, I'll leave you in peace. Excuse me."  
Dracula left, leaving Carl to wonder how much peace he'd get in this castle.  
  
Dracula had not gotten far before Verona and Aleera were with him. Their hands were on his shoulders, not softly caressing, but firm.  
"Is he dead?" was Aleera's first question.  
"No."  
His brides wailed softly. "Van Helsing killed Mirashka after the little friar man threw holy water on her. They both should die." Their hands clenched on his shoulder, nails digging into his flesh. It didn't bother Dracula, much less cause him pain, but he wasn't feeling very tolerant of it at the moment.  
"They both soon will be dead, but not before I say." He shrugged off the touches of his brides. The two looked slightly taken aback, shocked evident on their faces. Dracula let them stay like that a moment before circling his arms around their waists.  
"Until I say, no drop of the friar's blood shall fall from his veins."  
  
End of Chapter Two  
  
Another chapter up already! I hope I spelled the brides' names right. Am I keeping everybody in character? If I'm not, please tell me. I love to hear your opinions in your reviews! One bright spot of my day, that is; especially if they're not flames!


	3. Chapter III

Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing or any of the characters. But the good news is, I still own Carl and Dracula in my fantasy land. (Fat lot of help that does though.)  
  
Devil's Love  
Chapter Three  
  
_ "Until your Van Helsing comes to get you."  
_ Those words echoed in Carl's mind. _His_ Van Helsing? Could Dracula read minds? No, Carl thought, that had been far from his mind at that time. It was more in his heart than his mind anyway.  
Carl was sitting on the window seat, cloak wrapped around his body, his head against the wall. He had shifted aside the curtains, letting the weak sunlight filter in. White mountains loomed up against the sky and snow swirled past, covering all in its path. He watched the sun slowly sink behind the mountains, feeling his heart do the same.  
He was Dracula's prisoner; there was no doubt he'd be dead soon. After all, when had Dracula not killed? His only hope was for Van Helsing to come and get him, as Dracula had said. But this hope was fading quickly as he stared out the window. Nothing was familiar. Nothing looked like the Transylvanian landscape. But, maybe Van could find him.  
Yes, Van could find him. It would probably take awhile, but Carl grew positive that he would soon be rescued. Would Anna be with him though? The corners of Carl's mouth turned down, his hand holding loosely onto the crucifix. He knew he shouldn't react this way, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't that he didn't like her; she was a good person. But ever since he and Van had arrived in Transylvania, the tall hunter had been paying more attention to Anna than to him. Truth be told, Carl felt a little left out.  
His stomach growled, reminding him of how hungry he was. Carl still had no idea when the last time he ate was. Then a thought struck him: Was there even food here? Vampires didn't need to eat, did they?  
The door opened and a small man slunk into Carl's room.  
  
"Where is he?" Van struggled to sit up, despite Anna's hands on his shoulders, trying to push him back down. Since he had woken up, he had been demanding to see Carl. The green-eyed friar was not at his side and, for some reason, it didn't feel right to Van. It was like a void, an emptiness.  
"For the last time, I don't know," Anna said, exasperation evident in her voice. "Nobody knows. He hasn't been seen since the attack."  
"Then I have to find him-"  
"No, you don't." Anna pointed to the red-stained bandages that were wrapped around Van's chest. "Those are hardly minor wounds. And then you have the nerve to push yourself fighting Mirashka until you nearly passed out in the street."  
Van pushed Anna's hands from his shoulders and sat up, grimacing as pain flashed over him, centering on his chest. "Carl may be dead! I have to find-"  
"The bodies have already been cleaned up. Carl's was not among them."  
Van dropped back onto the bed, hearing a small "whumpf" as his head hit the pillow. The hunter didn't know whether to be relieved or not. Carl wasn't dead, so where was he? Van could think of many places Carl might be at that moment, and none of them were pleasant.  
  
End of Chapter Three  
  
Ok, so this chapter is hideously short. But it's better than no chapter at all, right? Heh, Carl's getting jealous of Anna and Van Helsing's getting anxious over Carl's disappearance. Once again, I'm not the best romance writer (actually, I've never written it before, much less slash), but I hope this is coming out ok. What do you think? Review for me please! 


	4. Chapter IV

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in Van Helsing. But that's alright, because I had Subway (actually, I haven't and I'm kinda hungry).  
  
Devil's Love  
Chapter Four  
  
The man who had just entered his room was one of the strangest Carl had ever seen. The man was short, his back hunched slightly, his face pale and deformed. He mostly looked at the floor, occasionally glancing up at the friar.  
"The master wishes for your presence in the dinner hall," he muttered, beckoning for Carl to follow. The friar rose, leaving his cloak on the seat, and followed the man out the door and down the corridor. Carl had never been out of the little room he had woken up in, so he looked all around himself, craning his head, trying to see into the other rooms. But his spirits only got lower as they walked down an immeasurable amount of halls and stairs, passing numerous rooms; it was like a maze. How would Van ever find him?  
Finally, the man stopped at a pair of stone doors, each engraved with an intricate design of a winged snake. Carl narrowed his eyes in concentration; he had seen that symbol before, but where? Before he could think any harder, the doors swung open, and he felt a nudge in the small of his back. When Carl didn't move, the small man pushed harder; Carl stumbled and took a step through the doors. They swung shut behind him.  
The vast ceiling of the hall was covered in shadow and the walls were lined with windows. Carl noticed that several of the windows had broken panes. Stands that held numerous thick, wax candles were placed at intervals around the walls and at the long table set up in the center. The table where Dracula sat, slowly sipping a deep-red wine. To Carl's horror, the only other chair was next to the vampire. Though the friar felt that he was on the point of starvation (and the food did smell wonderful, he noticed), his stomach churned at the thought of eating with this monster.  
When he didn't move, Dracula raised an eyebrow. "Come, Carl," he said lightly, beckoning for the friar to come over. "Your seat is over here."  
_How does he know my name?_  
"Did you not hear me?" The corners of Dracula's mouth twitched up. "Your seat is over here."  
Suddenly, with no warning at all, Carl's feet moved, carrying him toward the table. His mind refused for him to go any closer, but his body didn't listen. The sickening thought that Dracula must be controlling him somehow entered Carl's mind. Then the friar reached his chair, which was held out for him by the count. _How did he get there? I didn't even see him move.  
_ "I see Igor brought you here in good order," Dracula said in a pleasant tone. Once he saw Carl was seated, the count returned to his own, sitting down gracefully. Graceful, Carl thought, like a coiled snake unwinding, then striking, all in one fluid motion. A dangerous grace.  
"Please, serve yourself."  
Carl filled his plate, constantly wary of the vampire next to him. However, Dracula made no move, besides silently sipping his wine now and then. The distant thought that the food might've been poisoned entered Carl's mind as he took a small bite from an apple, but he quickly dismissed it. He was too hungry to care. He took a larger bite from a piece of roasted chicken, noticing as he swallowed, that it was warmer then he had felt since he had awakened to find himself in the castle.  
Dracula watched Carl with amusement. The friar had started to eat with much more gusto. "You must have been quite hungry," he commented. "Or do you always eat like this?"  
Carl's fork stopped half-way to his mouth and then was slowly lowered back down to his plate. Van had said much the same when he had first seen the friar's eating habits. A wave of loneliness washed over Carl, engulfing him, as he thought again of how much he missed the hunter. "Why are you doing this?" he asked quietly.  
"I told you earlier, did I not, little friar? It would be shameful for me to not care for my guests." Carl's disbelief must have shown on his face. Dracula's eyes narrowed slightly and his voice lost some of its pleasantness. "Do you think because I am dead, I have lost my manners? My humanity?"  
Yes, yes I do, Carl thought. But he couldn't say that for fear of what Dracula might do to him. His knuckles were turning white as he gripped his fork harder. Carl's every instinct was to clasp his hands protectively over his throat. Dracula's dark eyes were on him, waiting for an answer. Finally, after long moments of silence, Carl forced out, "Y- you...made a covenant with....with the devil."  
Dracula's piercing eyes flickered from Carl's face to the cross around his neck. "You are a man of God, are you not, little friar?" the count asked, lazily swirling the deep-red wine in his glass. "You would not understand my reasons for doing what I did." He propped his elbow up on the table, leaning his head against the back of his hand. His eyes reflected the candlelight as he continued. To Carl, it seemed like Dracula wasn't talking to him anymore, but to someone else, maybe to himself. "But I remember what it is like to be as you are now. To feel, to love, to have ambitions. But then...I do still have an ambition, a goal. A dream you might call it."  
_Is he not as heartless as I thought?_  
However, before Carl could even open his mouth to ask of Dracula's dream, the vampire's eyes suddenly became focused. He stared beyond Carl's shoulder to the corner of the ceiling. Carl whirled his head around, hearing the tendons crack as he did so, turning as far as his chair would allow him. But he could not see anything in the shadows.  
"Verona, Aleera," Dracula spoke, eyes still on the ceiling. "I do not believe you were invited. Leave."  
Two voices, women's voices, rose. The voices were incoherent to Carl as they bounced off the cavernous walls and the vast ceiling. However, Dracula's face didn't change; but something in his eyes did.  
"Leave. Now."  
Carl was startled. The vampire's voice was hard, cold. The friar had never heard Dracula speak like that, not even to him. Then another thought filled his mind: Why was that so startling to him? Why was it so strange to hear this seemingly ruthless vampire speak so coldly?  
Dracula kept his eyes on the corner above Carl's head. Finally, he looked down, as is satisfied, and rooted his gaze on the friar before him. "My apologies," he said, once again polite. "Forgive them. It has been long since they have had to deal with guests."  
Carl mumbled something, keeping his eyes on his table. It was then that he noticed that there was no plate in front of Dracula. Recalling the evening since he entered the hall, he realized that Dracula had eaten nothing. He had just sat there, sipping his wine, not even glancing at the food. Carl's insatiable curiosity forced him to ask about it.  
"I have not eaten for four hundred years," Dracula said. His eyes momentarily lingered on the food on Carl's plate. "I can not taste it. Food will not satisfy and no drink will slake my thirst. Only blood will fill me."  
Suddenly, Carl wasn't sure if that was wine in the count's glass.  
  
End of Chapter Four  
  
Haha, I updated. Actually, I should have updated a lot sooner, but I never got much time to type. But the good news is that summer vacation is three days away (thank God). Then I can spend all the time (that's not taken up by marching band) writing my lovely fics and such! Oooh...and I got to go see Van Helsing for the second time (and Carl was just as hot!) so I picked up a lot of stuff I didn't get the first time. Pray that this time I update faster!! Review for me and tell me what you think! 


	5. Chapter V

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or that from which they come (a.k.a the Van Helsing movie).  
  
Devil's Love  
Chapter Five  
  
Carl lay on the small bed, the musty scent of the sheets filling his nostrils. He could hear the glass pane rattling in the fierce wind. His cloak and outer robes lay in a crumpled pile at the foot of the bed. Carl pulled the wool blankets up about his shoulders and shivered. But whether it was from the seeping cold or his thoughts, he didn't know. His mind kept straying over what had happened after his dinner with Dracula...  
  
-  
  
"Ah, here we are."  
Dracula twisted the knob, opening the door to Carl's room, and bowed graciously, beckoning the friar to enter. Carl, who had gotten over his initial fear of the vampire, managed to walk past the count without shaking...too much. But he still kept his back to Dracula despite it.  
_Van Helsing wouldn't be afraid, no, he's never afraid. I have to be strong so I can be worthy-  
...Worthy of what?  
_ The friar's thoughts were abruptly cut off when Dracula appeared in front of him. The vampire's fingers hovered a hair's breadth from Carl's chest, just over the cross that hung around his neck. Dracula's gaze flickered from it to the smaller man's face. "Such a beautiful crucifix," he said. "I suppose you wear it often?"  
Carl nodded slowly as he instinctively wrapped his hand around the cross. As he did so, his hand brushed against Dracula's. The friar couldn't help but notice how unnaturally cold the count's skin felt.  
"Then I suppose Gabriel would recognize it if he saw it."  
Suddenly, Dracula was behind Carl, his hands at the base of the friar's neck. For one terrifying moment, Carl thought he was about to be bitten. But Dracula was simply unclasping the chain that held the cross, careful not to touch the cross itself, letting his fingers trail unnecessarily over Carl's shoulders. Carl shivered, even though he couldn't feel the coldness of the count's fingers through his robes.  
Once he had the chain free, Dracula dropped the necklace onto a piece of black cloth and wrapped it securely, all the while making sure the bronze cross didn't touch him. After tucking it away, he bowed once more to Carl. "Do forgive me for taking your crucifix, but rest assured that it will be put to good use."  
Before Carl could inquire about it, a loud, dismal howl echoed through the castle. It caused him to jump and stumble slightly on the hem of his robes. "What was that?"  
Dracula seemed to hesitate before answering. "...Another guest who is not quite as comfortable in my castle. But do not trouble yourself over it; you are tired and you need to rest." The vampire appeared by the door and said in a warning tone, "I trust you will not wander from this room. There are others here who will not be as kind to you as I. Sleep well, little friar."  
He left silently and Carl noticed something about himself. His shoulders were no longer sore. Quickly, he drew his robes aside enough to expose his shoulders; there was neither cut nor a bruise on them.

-  
_Dracula healed me...Though I'm not entirely ungrateful_, Carl admitted to himself. Once again, the friar had been baffled. Why had Dracula bothered to heal him? Why did the count even bother to keep him here at all? And who (or what, Carl corrected himself) had howled?  
Then another question entered Carl's already-full mind. He hadn't noticed it out of stifled fear when Dracula had first said it. Indeed, it wasn't until after he had gone through the scene in his mind did he notice.  
_Who was Gabriel?_  
  
End of Chapter Five  
  
Ok, I updated and have a relative outline for the next chapter, so it shouldn't be long before another. So, how am I doing? Is everyone in character? I hope so. I got the Van Helsing book, so that kinda helps. Oh, and next chapter, we will flash back to Van and Anna. Please review for me! (They're the only e-mails I get that are really worth reading)


	6. Chapter VI

Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing or any of the characters in said movie. Thank you, and have a nice day.  
  
(A/N: With this new chapter, I have to admit it...this fits no where in the movie. In fact, I seem to be re-writing it. Hey, it's not my fault Stephen Sommers forgot to put in the romance between Van and Carl, right?)  
  
Devil's Love  
Chapter Six  
  
The smell of singed fur and burning flesh reached Dracula as he entered the room. The seeping cold of the dungeon wrapped around him, but it didn't affect him. His brides stood, clustered, far from the howling werewolf.  
"Master?"  
Igor crept out from behind the chained wolf, clutching his electric prod protectively. The wolf reared back, the chains slackening, and growled. Igor stung the beast's chest, electricity singeing fur and snapping loudly. A twisted smile decorated the small man's disfigured face and Dracula sighed inwardly.  
His brides surrounded him, their hands on him, stroking and caressing. He paid little attention to them as he drew out the cloth- wrapped crucifix. Dracula stared at it for one long moment, then tossed it to Igor. The other fumbled to catch it, nearly dropping the electric prod.  
"Secure it well," Dracula ordered, eyeing Igor as the man unwrapped the bundle clumsily with one hand. Then the vampire wrapped his arms around Aleera and Verona, drawing them to him.  
Igor stung the wolf again, causing it to howl. Then it stopped abruptly, its jaw going slack. Its arm hung limply at its side and the wolf did nothing as Igor approached; he figured his master had something to do with the werewolf's sudden compliancy. Still, he stalked toward it cautiously, his red-rimmed eyes darting back and forth. He wrapped the chain of the necklace around the creature's wrist, circling it once around for good measure before clasping it. The crucifix hung over the animal's paw, reflecting the torchlight.  
"Will it hold?"  
"Yes, master, it should," Igor assured.  
"Good," Dracula said, leaning his head back slightly to catch the gaze of the wolf. When he spoke next, he spoke to it. "Go find Gabriel, _Van Helsing_, and deliver to him my gift."  
Igor freed the werewolf of its iron collar that bound it. The wolf stood up fully, shaking its head, flexing its claws in and out of a fist. It then bounded upward, clawing its way to an already-shattered window, and squeezed through, ignoring the jagged glass still attached to the pane that dug into its fur.  
"Igor, you may leave," Dracula said, by way of dismissal. Igor bowed slightly, saying nothing, and departed up the steps, his feet dragging slightly. Dracula waited until the echo of Igor's footsteps diminished before asking, "Why were you in the hall?" He cut off his bride's replies by adding, "I told you to go nowhere near the friar."  
"We gave you our word not to harm him," wailed Verona softly, her hands running down his shoulders and chest.  
"We gave you our word," Aleera repeated. "Do you not trust us?"  
Dracula cupped her chin in his hand gently, forcing her to look at him. "I trust you, Aleera," he said slowly. "It is the look in your eyes that I do not."  
  
Van Helsing was just pulling his sweater on over his bandages when Anna opened the door.  
"There's been no word of...What are you doing?!" she demanded, grabbing Van's arm as he began shrugging on his overcoat. "What are you doing?"  
"I'm going to look for Carl," Van said shortly, pulling away from her. "I can't just sit here when he could be-"  
Anna pulled his hat from his hand. "We don't have any idea of where he is? Where would you look? You shouldn't even be exerting yourself."  
Van scowled as he snatched his hat back, gripping the brim so hard his knuckles turned white. She just didn't understand! Carl...Carl was the only person who had bothered to get close to him, not just treat him like a tool, a weapon against the evil they fought. Now that he was gone...  
A scream pierced the air from the direction of the village.  
  
End of Chapter Six  
  
Alright, I finally updated. Hope you liked it. I really appreciate your positive reviews and opinions. It's also the only note-worthy email that I get, too. So...you know...I really like getting the reviews...(hint hint) Yeah...review please! 


	7. Chapter VII

Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing or any of its characters...oh, how that sucks...

(A/N: At this point, Anna does not know of her brother's fate...I sound so mysterious when I say that!)

Devil's Love

Chapter Seven

The cold air stirred Van's hair, blowing it into his face as he ran outside. Anna was behind him, her sword already out of her sheath. Villagers were running, screaming, looking over their shoulders constantly, trying to get indoors. And perched on the edge of the well was the source of their terror.

Van drew the pistol from his belt, aiming the gun at the werewolf. The beast's ears swiveled at the clicking sound of the hammer being drawn back. Its golden eyes met the hunter's as the bullet was fired.

The wolf jumped to the safety of a nearby roof, avoiding the silver bullet. Saliva pattered the wood underneath as it shook its head irritably.

"Anna! No!" Van Helsing made a wild grab for her as she dashed past him, fingers closing briefly over her shoulder before she pulled away.

The ground shook as the werewolf leapt down, rearing back on both hind feet, meeting his new adversary. Something flashed, reflecting the sunlight into Van's eyes. Squinting, he saw something was wrapped around the wolf's wrist, but then it was lost in the shaggy fur.

He raised the pistol again, aiming for the chest, then cursed. Anna had charged recklessly in, blocking his shot. The princess swung her sword, aiming for the wolf's unprotected stomach. The blade sliced through the flesh, the wet sound of blood-covered metal being pulled out accompanied by the wolf's howl. It lashed out furiously, catching Anna with its knuckles, throwing her aside.

Van Helsing arrived too late, had to simply watch Anna get thrown, frustration building inside of him. It was his second distraction in many days. The wolf clawed at him. Van jumped back, but the sharp tips of the claws still caught on the back of his hand, forcing him to let go of the gun.

Anna was up again, scrambling after her fallen sword. Van thought of running after the pistol, which lie near the steps of the well, and try to divide the werewolf's attention. But it was risky, Anna might get hurt...

"Van Helsing, go!"

Anna had launched herself up, wrapping her arms around the creature's neck, sword hanging uselessly in her hand. Her teeth were gritted as the wolf's claws ran through her back, blood flowing, as it tried to force her to let go. It had forgotten its bleeding stomach wound.

Van's hand closed over the pistol at the same time the werewolf's paw closed over his ankle. It decided that the silver bullets were more important than the woman on its back. Van whipped over onto his back, firing the gun. The bullet barely clipped the monster's ear, not enough to even harm it. The wolf growled, opening its jaws and diving down toward Van's throat. The hunter reacted quickly, striking the wolf across the muzzle with his free foot. It reared back, and Anna fell, finally relinquishing her grip. As it pulled back, the thing on its wrist flashed again. Van grabbed it, tearing it from the wolf's fur.

The werewolf backed away slowly, eyes glinting as they darted to Van Helsing's clenched hand. Paw gripping its stomach, blood dripping between its claws, it turned and ran away. Van tried once more, pulling the trigger, but he missed completely.

The wolf was gone.

Van Helsing sat down on the steps, his back against the well, staring down into his hand. Anna came to stand beside him, still staring in the direction the werewolf had ran. Villagers were starting to come slowly out of the safety of the buildings, their heads turning in every direction.

"...no sense, we just killed one last month, the one that took my brother's life," Anna said, her eyebrows arched low in her confusion. Noticing her companion's silence, she looked down at him. "Van Helsing, what's wrong?"

The hunter held up the retrieved crucifix.

"This is Carl's..."

End of Chapter Seven

Sorry it took forever to update. School just started and its marching band season and doesn't leave much time for writing. (I wrote this during geometry...that teacher doesn't notice squat.) Please review for me and I'll love you forever!


	8. Chapter VIII

Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing or its characters, I swear!!

Devil's Love

Chapter Eight

Carl's thoughts had continued to drift through the night; he knew it was late, but he couldn't sleep. He was now re-playing the dinner in his head, re-called images floating before his eyes.

_"You are a man of God, are you not, little friar? You would not understand my reasons for doing what I did."_

A man of God, a friar. But...sometimes, Carl questioned his devotion to the Lord. It was wrong, he shouldn't question, he knew that. But he did it anyway. It seemed to Carl like he was always finding loop-holes or excuses to do things that the church-leaders didn't exactly smile upon. Of course, Carl just assumed that it was Satan's doing, trying to tempt him away from the Order. But then there was Carl's secret sin, one he didn't confess to the cardinal, one that he often tried to deny to himself...

A tremor shook the little room, startling the friar off his bed, his hand going to his neck before he remembered he didn't have his crucifix anymore. From the lower levels came a howl, like a wolf, but as Carl listened and shivered, it became more human, then faded away. It sounded painful, as if the screamer was injured.

Before Carl realized what he was doing, he had put on his cloak over his night-shift and had his hand on the door-knob. It was instinct; when a hunter cam back hurt, everybody would rush out to see. But this isn't the Order, Carl reminded himself. Dracula's quiet warning to him about leaving the room echoed in his head. Of course, it could be a monster...

_But if it's human...they certainly won't find help from anyone else._

Carl glanced out the window to the cloudy night sky. Whatever was down there was at least part human. He took a deep breathe, shut his eyes, and turned the door-knob. Surprisingly, it wasn't locked; it opened easily. Carl poked his head out into the hall. There was nothing, no vampires swooping at him for his nerve. He stepped out and walked as quietly to the staircase that the disfigured man (Igor, that's what Dracula called him) had lead him to earlier.

He walked down carefully, clutching the banister, testing each step before putting his full weight on it, flinching at every creak. He reached the landing, with no person, living or dead, in sight. Carl let out his breath slowly, suddenly realizing he had been holding it. But now that he had reached the bottom...how was he supposed to find the person who was injured?

-

From the rafters, two women watched the small, red-haired friar walk hesitantly down the hall. Verona made a move to jump to the floor, but Aleera stopped her, grabbing her by the arm, nails digging in slightly. "Leave him for now; this may be entertaining."

Verona continued to watch Carl with narrowed eyes, but she nodded in agreement. "Alright...we will watch...and we will wait."

End of Chapter Eight

Yes, yes, its short I know. I'm will force myself to write a long(er) chapter next time. But the good news is: FOURTEEN DAYS UNTIL VAN HELSING IS OUT ON DVD!! As you can tell, I'm excited. I also started a poll on who Van Helsing's soul-mate is (Carl or Anna (or anybody else, I suppose)). That's all I have to share. Until the next I post!

P.S.: Please review!


	9. Chapter IX

Disclaimer: I don't own Carl, Dracula, Van Helsing, Igor, or anybody else from the Van Helsing movie. (Which I also do not own, by the way...well, not the rights to it anyway.)

Devil's Love

Chapter Nine

Carl had found another staircase, one that looked longer than the last. He had been wandering along the hall, trying to see past doors. The more he explored, the smaller he felt. The castle was bigger than any Carl had ever read about. The farther down he went, theless grand the décor got.

And he still hadn't seen anyone, living or dead, yet.

Then, as if sensing his thoughts, something brown flashed down the side corridor just as Carl was passing it. He saw it out of the corner of his eye, whipping his head around as it disappeared, too late to get a good look. He glanced over his shoulder, a sudden paranoia washing over him. But the hall was empty.

Carl turned back to the side hall, squinting, trying to catch the brown flash again, but it must've gone into a room. Or maybe down a staircase. It couldn't have been Dracula, since he only wears black, Carl figured. He hadn't seen the brides yet in their human form, only in their winged form, and they had been white at the time. Only one person he had seen in the castle wore brown clothing...

"Igor?" Carl called, hesitantly, softly. Carl didn't know if he wanted an answer or not. If it was Igor, and he was the injured one, then Carl, as a friar, was obligated to help him; but if Igor wasn't hurt, he would certainly call Dracula. Carl shivered. Besides, he didn't want to call the vampires down on himself by being too loud.

But instead of a human voice answering, a strange chattering noise echoed from the corridor before dying off. As frightened as Carl was, he took a hesitant step into the side-hall, and then another. If he was to find an injured person, then he'd have to find people first. And he certainly wasn't going to find them wandering alone by himself.

Carl reached the end of the short, weaving hall, another staircase at his feet. He had looked into every empty room, with no clue as to where the brown flash had gone. But now the only logical explanation was that it had gone down these stairs.

It was much longer than any of the other staircases Carl had gone down. It was also much darker, lit only by a few irregularly-placed torches, and the occasional window. Whenever Carl reached one of the windows, he pressed his face against the glass, flinching inwardly at the biting cold of the frosted pane, and searched the landscape, praying for any familiar sign at all. But it was always the same; snow-covered mountains filling the sky and dark clouds floating swiftly along in the fierce wind. The full moon glowed onto Carl's face as he turned away.

When Carl finally reached the foot of the staircase, he was breathing heavily. He sat on the bottom stair, looking into the silent darkness surrounding him. By the drop of temperature, Carl guessed he had reached at least the first floor.

A thunking noise echoed a little further down the hall.

-

Aleera and Verona watched the friar stand up and walk in the direction of the wall on his right, his outstretched fingers seeking it out.

"He is headed for the werewolf," Verona said, her eyes following him. Aleera watched him as well, eyes glowing, a smile spreading across her face.

"Wonderful."

End of Chapter Nine

This chapter is slightly longer! Yay! Sorry it took so long to update (I actually had this written out for a couple weeks, but there was no time to type it up). The good thing is that marching band season is over now (well, I'm still sad about that, but now I have more time to write!). I've already started the next chapter, which is a flash to Van Helsing and Anna, with maybe a slash thrown in? Please tell me what you think be reviewing!


	10. Chapter X

Disclaimer: I don't own Carl or anyone else featured in this piece of fanfiction. I WISH I owned Carl but, alas, I don't. Gr.

Devil's Love

Chapter Ten

_"The tower…Carl, start there."_

Van Helsing was combing through the Valerious tower, those words echoing in his ears, a simple brown leather jerkin covering the bandages on his torso. In the week they had been in the village, Carl had spent most of the time locked away in the tower, searching for the location to Dracula's castle on Van's orders.

The deep smell of the stew arrived in the tower room before Anna. The gypsy woman glanced out the dark window, looking at the glowing full moon. She stood before the hunter, looking down at his bowed head. "Here," she said, holding out the bowl. "You have been up here long enough. You have to eat."

Van laid the book down in his lap carefully, making sure he didn't lose his place. The warmth of the stew flowed from the smooth wood into his fingers but he simply put the bowl down on the old wooden desk. "I'm not hungry. I'll eat when I am."

Anna sighed. "You're no good to Carl if you starve. You need to eat. We don't even know if he's alive at all."

_"Don't say that!" _Van was on his feet in an instant, the book falling from his lap to the floor with a heavy thud. "Why would Dracula take him, send me a sign, if Carl's dead? He _is _alive."

Anna watched his face, studying the look in his eyes as Van slowly sat down again, breathing heavily. The hunter bent over and picked up the book again, its pages bent from the fall. As he straightened the pages out, flipping for his place again, he still didn't look at Anna.

"You blame yourself, don't you? You think it's your fault that Carl got captured."

"I could've done something. It's obvious that he was taken during the attack-"

"You were fighting Mirashka. There was no-"

"I should've stayed near him! He's a _friar_ for God's sake, not a soldier! He needed me to protect him…and I didn't," Van said, his voice going soft. "If he dies, then it's my fault."

-

Carl's fingers trailed over the uneven surface of the stone wall, searching for a door or some sort of entryway. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, creating a tickling sensation. _I am _not _being watched_, Carl told himself. _It's just my nerves. I am not being watched._ But he still couldn't shake the feeling.

Suddenly, his fingers weren't on the wall. They were in the air; the wall had run out! But Carl found the wall again and retraced its surface; it hadn't run out, it had turned. His other arm reached out and he found the other side of the wall. It had to be an entryway. Carl took a tentative step forward, and then felt along with his other foot. _Stairs._

Carl hadn't descended for long before the stairs took a winding curve and a torch was in view. Carl hadn't seen any source of light along the stairs until this one and, by the look of the darkness before him, there wouldn't be many more. Carl tugged on the torch, carefully keeping his hands from the flame, and freed it from its bracket.

The torch certainly made Carl feel safer, though he didn't know why. His logical brain kept repeating that fire wouldn't harm a vampire, but his heart continued to feel lighter. Maybe just because the fire chased away the darkness surrounding him.

But it didn't stop Carl from shivering at the sound of a moan and a series of cracks. The sounds were loud; he must be nearly there.

Just as Carl was thinking this, he turned the last winding corner and came to a wooden door with a chain across the front. _This is where it has to be coming from. But why would Dracula lock this door and not mine? _Carl asked himself, even as he unwound the chain and let it fall to the ground with a loud clank. Carl pulled on the iron ring that served as a doorknob, throwing all his weight back. It creaked open slowly. Once it was wide enough for Carl to squeeze through, he dropped the ring and wriggled through, feeling the stone claw at his skin.

He silently shut the door, thinking to keep unwanted eyes from looking in. Inside the room, Carl looked down on the huddled form of a near-naked man on the floor. Kneeling down, Carl could hearthe shaking man's mutterings.

"I didn't harm her…didn't kill…"

Carl looked closer at him, but couldn't see much detail; clouds were blocking the moonlight from the shattered window above. Carl brought the torch closer and asked, "Didn't kill who?"

The man jumped, sitting up with his feet half under him, leaning away from Carl. The fire-light revealed a dimly familiar face that Carl couldn't place. "Who are you?" the man asked warily.

"Carl…er, I'm a friar." Now that Carl was here, he wasn't sure of what to do. He knew what he intended to do, the reason he came down here, but he wasn't sure of how to go about it. And the way the man's eyes kept going to the flame of his torch…

"A friar?" the man asked, sounding puzzled. "Why would Dracula keep his friar in his castle?"

_Exactly my question, _Carl thought. The moon revealed itself and he moved closer to the stranger, peering at the now-visible gash along his stomach. As he opened his mouth to ask about it, the man began to gag. "Are you alright? What…"

Carl sank into a shocked silence as the man writhed on the floor, his hand grabbing at the wall. His fingers latched onto any hand-hold as he began to climb it. His mouth opened wide in a howl as his head lengthened into that of a wolf's. His spine grew out into a tail and his skin fell from his body to reveal matted brown fur.

Dropping the torch, Carl ran for the door. His hands hit its surface and he pushed it frantically. It wouldn't open. He heard the chain grate against the stone on the other side.

The door was locked, trapping Carl with a monster. The friar knew he was about to die, but he couldn't utter a final to prayer to God. The only thing he could think of as he looked into the wolf's eyes was Van Helsing.

End of Chapter Ten

Sorry for not writing for a long, long time!! I've been busy…but I'm not so much right now. This chapter is indeed longer than the last one, by two whole pages! Yay! Anyway, I intend to work on the next chapter tonight, so it won't take so long to update again. I apologize deeply once again and humbly for you to review!


	11. Chapter XI

Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing or any of the characters. Thank you, and have a wonderful day!

A/N: I am a bad person. I have not updated in forever. (Forever translates into a couple months) But I do thank those of you who sent reviews despite that and encouraged me to get my lazy butt in gear.

Devil's Love

Chapter 11

Carl gazed into the golden eyes of the wolf and saw not himself reflected in them, but Van Helsing's face. His lips quivered, but made no sound. He was going to die. This thought, this knowledge, filled him with sorrow but he still wanted to face death bravely. Like _he _would. Carl though suddenly, a quick prayer to God…_Please, let me go to the same place as…him…_

The werewolf's claws tore through his robes and skin like parchment. Carl flew back against the door from the force, his head cracking against the wood. He crumpled on the ground and squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel the blood leaking from the gashes and running down his skin. It hurt…hurt so bad…but the pain would stop soon. The wolf was panting above him.

The end never came; the pain remained.

Carl opened his eyes.

Dracula stood over him, the wolf's wrist caught in his hand. The vampire's knuckles were white from the powerful grip. The eyes of both creatures were interlocked. The wolf continued to keep his hackles raised, a growl deep in his throat.

"He is not for you," Dracula growled. Carl saw his grip tighten on the creature's wrist. At the same time, the friar noticed something else about the vampire. Standing, unafraid and sure of his power, his eyes gleaming, Dracula was almost…majestic.

"He is not for you," Dracula repeated. "He is mine. You will not touch him."

The werewolf's hand went limp in Dracula's grasp. The growls died off. Still staring into the vampire's eyes, it seemed to lose its will. But then it grew darker. Carl shivered as the light faded away from the dank room. He looked towards the broken window, tearing his eyes from Dracula's countenance, to see the moon fade behind the clouds.

The wolf seemed to shrink slightly as it began to shed its fur rapidly. Soon the creature was human again. With a gasp, Carl recognized him. _It's…I saw his picture at the Vatican…That's Velkan Valerious!_

Velkan's eyelids fluttered and he seemed half-conscious. Dracula threw him to the ground in disgust. The elder Valerious moaned but did not move. Throwing a long, suspicious glance at the prone figure, Dracula turned around to face Carl. He did not seem angry as Carl thought he would have been. In fact, a sardonic smile was playing across his face. "I believe I told you not to leave your room, little friar," he said, kneeling down to eye-level with Carl. "Now you know why."

Placing his cold hand on Carl's arm, Dracula drew the friar up off the floor. Tightening his hold, Dracula smiled and then blackness came over them both.

End of Chapter Eleven

…Yes, it's short. I know, I know! But the next chapter should be long(er). (I always say that, don't I?) I promise you guys won't have to wait long! I plan on picking up the pace here quite a bit.


	12. Chapter XII

Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing or the characters…ok, you know the drill. Do I need to repeat it?

Devil's Love

Chapter Twelve

At first, Carl thought he had lost his sight. Panicking, he grabbed onto Dracula, who still had a firm grip on his arm. But then Carl blinked and his sight was restored. They were both standing in the room Carl had been confined in.

_And then the devil gave him wings._

Dracula carefully pried the friar's fingers from his shirt-front. Carl found that the vampire's cold touch no longer shocked him, that he was growing accustomed to it. But he still pulled his hands out of the count's grasp. "You didn't have to do that," Carl said indignantly.

"I didn't have to save you either."

Carl paused. Yes, he'd been surprised when the count had shown up to save him, but at the time, he hadn't thought about it. "Why did you save me?"

"You're still useful, you can't die yet," Dracula replied, a slight smile twitching at the corners of his lips. "And I do believe I've taken a liking to you, little friar. You confound me in every way."

The statement made Carl forget even the gashes on his arm that were bleeding openly. "I…?"

Dracula shook his head, the small smile still playing across his face. He motioned toward Carl's bleeding arm. "I think you have a more pressing matter."

Carl stumbled backward as the count reached out for him. It was more an automatic reaction now than a movement fueled by fear. When had Carl's disgust vanished?

"I don't need help," Carl said, trying to cover up his actions. He did know how to wrap injuries. It was a requirement for everyone to know at least basic medical skills in the Vatican's secret order. Carl had bandaged several of Van Helsing's wound. Besides, he wasn't to keen to have more vampire healing performed on him. "I'll bandage it myself."

"You only have one hand," Dracula replied. The friar couldn't argue with that. Suddenly, the vampire was behind him, a hand on Carl's good arm, leading him to the bed. Carl didn't know whether he was moving of his own violation or because of Dracula's influence. Nevertheless, Carl seated himself at the foot of the bed. As Dracula released his arm, the vampire's fingers brushed over the bleeding. Carl drew back in fear. Van Helsing had told him many frightening stories about vampires and their bloodlust. But then the hunter had always laughed afterward and joked with Carl, telling the friar that he would never make it out of the abbey to see it.

_Shows what he knows._

Dracula licked the blood from his fingers with a smile that chilled Carl. "I have more control than you give me credit for. Now, I am respecting your wishes for no healing power, so it is only my duty as a host to help you treat your wounds."

"I-I can manage on my own," Carl stammered out. He didn't want the vampire touching any more than he could avoid it. He reached out for his bag that lay on the floor against the bed, but his fingers barely brushed the strap. Before he could shift to fully reach it, the bag was in Dracula's hands.

"Give that here!"

"…What's this?"

Dracula, who had been shifting through Carl's pack, suddenly stopped. He pulled his arm out of the bag; clutched in his fist was Carl's light compressor. The magma from Mount Vesuvius and the alkali from the Gobi Desert mixture lightly lapped against the glass globe as Dracula turned it in his hand, examining it. His fingers closed around one of the knobs on top. He began to twist it.

Carl's face went white.

_"Don't!"_

End of Chapter Twelve

I actually had this chapter written up much earlier, but with marching band and my brother's wedding, I didn't have time to get it typed up. But now it is! The next chapter has been started, but it might take a bit before it is up. I plan to start up a few my other stories that got a bit shut-down during my long break. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please review and let me know!


	13. Chapter XIII

Disclaimer: I don't own this stuff. I never will. But what I did own it….?

Additional Notes: I do apologize. I sincerely meant to have an update before Christmas. However, my niece died this past month and so writing was no the first thing on my mind. But I am now back in the game and have the next chapter planned out and ready to write. But in the meantime, please enjoy this chapter!

Devil's Love

Chapter XIII

Dracula's hand froze. "What?"

"If you twist that and release the final chemical, it will combust and create a light equal to the intensity of the sun! You'll die and I, at the very least, will go blind!" Carl rapped out in a hurry. He scrambled to the foot of the bed and attempted to snatch the compressor out of the vampire's hands.

Dracula held it over his head, out of the friar's reach. "A light equal to the intensity of the sun? An impressive toy you've got here."

"It's hardly a toy!" Carl snapped. "That's twelve years of hard work you're playing with there!" Dracula moved so that he was now holding the orb behind his back.

As Carl reached out for it, he suddenly hesitated. The memory that had just flooded his mind seemed to have shut down his thought process.

-

"Did you invent this?"

Carl only had to glance at the orb in Van Helsing's hands before he rushed at Van and reached out for it. "I've been working on that for twelve years. It's compressed magma from Mount Vesuvius with pure alkali from the Gobi Desert. It's one of a kind!"

It was clear that Van really hadn't absorbed any of the significance of what Carl had just said. Instead, his face lit up with that mischievous grin that Carl both loved and hated at the same time. The hunter didn't hand over the compressor—he drew back, dodging Carl's outstretched hand. Carl snorted in annoyance and reached for it a little faster. Van, with much experience against much quicker creatures, easily evaded and held the compressor over his head.

But then Carl shoved him. Not very hard of course and only with one hand, but it still surprised Van. The friar usually relied on his sharp tongue, never his physical strength, of which there wasn't very much. Van's hesitation gave Carl enough time to hop up and take the compressor from the hunter's hand.

Carl smiled, but hid it by shoving the crossbow into Van Helsing's chest.

-

"I apologize."

Carl started, the memory fleeing from his mind. He looked up to see Dracula holding the compressor out to him. The vampire stood in front of him, arm outstretched, his fingers lightly cradling the glass orb. "It wasn't very befitting of me to toy with your possessions in such a way," the count continued.

Carl reached out and took his precious compressor from Dracula, the glass cold against his skin. A thought suddenly struck him—why hadn't he just let Dracula twist the knob? _It would have killed him, but I'd have been free. Blind, still waiting on Van Helsing, but free. And Dracula would've been dead. I…I only stopped him because of the risk to myself._

Dracula was suddenly at the door, his hand resting lightly on the polished metal of the doorknob. There was something strange about his face, the expression in his eyes…but then he opened the door and walked past the threshold, leaving Carl with only the sight of his retreating back before the door snapped shut.

Carl's confused feelings flooded his senses just as silence flooded the room.

End of Chapter XIII

The next chapter will be a combination of pretty much everyone…Dracula, Carl (maybe), the brides, Anna, and Van Helsing. We haven't visited Anna and Van lately, have we? So obviously, the next chapter will be longer than the chapters have been as of late. Feel free to review. Feel free to send me emails or instant messages to make me get my lazy self in gear if I don't update for awhile (Email's on the profile…but I have suddenly fallen into a writing mood, so hopefully I'll be all over it. But by now, you readers have to know that I never get the update out as soon I say I will, do I?)


	14. Chapter XIV

Disclaimer: I own nothing that has anything to do with Van Helsing, its characters, or its setting. Thank you and have a wonderful day!

Devil's Love

Chapter Fourteen

Van Helsing looked over himself in the mirror. Almost all the wounds he had sustained during his fight with the werewolf were healed. Now they were just rows of fresh, pink scar tissue. _New additions to the collection, _Van thought. Most of his chest was covered with scars of many sizes. And on his back…those weird triangular ones…

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. Anna's voice accompanied the sound. "Van Helsing?"

Quickly, Van reached into his bag and pulled out one of the few shirts he had packed. Out of its folds fell the silver case that contained the piece of parchment that Valerious had left so long ago at the Vatican. In fact, Van had forgotten that the Cardinal had even given it to him. It fell harmlessly onto the bedspread and Van didn't spare an extra thought. He tugged the shirt over his head as he raised his voice to say, "Come in."

Anna opened the door just as Van got the shirt on, tugging the hem down past his waist. From the quick glimpse of his bare chest and from the sight of the discarded bandages on the bed, she gathered that he had healed. To confirm it, she asked.

"Enough," Van grunted.

The gypsy woman crossed the room and shifted the bandages to sit on the bed. Van remained standing, looking out the window to the early morning sky. An uneventful night. Both of them had finally been able to get enough sleep. Not a full night's sleep in Van's case—his worry wouldn't allow it—but enough to feel more alert than before.

"What is the plan today?" Anna asked.

"I was planning to keep studying the materials," he replied, adjusting the shirt over his shoulders. He was certain that the books and charts Carl had left out would lead him toward Dracula's liar and the friar himself. The problem was that Van was having a hard time making heads or tails out of it all.

Anna frowned. "I was hoping for a little more action toward killing Dracula."

The hunter suddenly lashed out, his fist hitting the mattress hard enough to make the bed squeak and the frame shake. "Damn it, I'm not doing this to get Dracula, I'm doing this for Carl!" Anna stared at him, her eyes wide and startled. The fire vanished from Van as he saw it. He looked at the floor, away from her, and said hastily, "I'm sorry. I am doing this to get Dracula too. I do care about your family, I just—"

"No, no, it's alright." Anna waved her hand, stopping his apology mid-sentence. "Of course you're worried about your partner. I was being thoughtless." She shifted her weight, causing the silver case to roll down the mattress and bump against her thigh. She picked it up and turned it back and forth as she examined it. "What's this?"

Van looked up. "Some piece of parchment your ancestor left with the church. Cardinal Jinette said it translates to '_In the name of God, open this door.'_"

Taking hold of the small silver tab, Anna pulled out the scrap of parchment. Van got a small glimpse of it before the woman flipped it over to see it for herself. _It looks familiar…_Van shrugged—he probably just thought it looked familiar because he'd only seen it once two months ago.

"This…this looks just like the script of the map in the armory," Anna said softly, as if she had just run short of breath. "My father used to stare at it for hours…"

"That's it!" Van couldn't believe the answer had been in his bag the entire time. He snatched the parchment from Anna, only thinking briefly that it could tear after it was in his hand, and then ran out the door, not waiting or looking back for Anna.

--

Van flew into the armory, skidding to a stop before the great map that took up the wall of the alcove. From the shape of the parchment, he figured it had been ripped from one of the bottom corners. The right bottom corner was intact while the left was hidden behind a chair. He was shoving the chair out of the way when he heard Anna's footsteps behind him. She knelt beside him as he fit the piece into the frame.

"In the name of God…open this door."

There was a cracking sound, rather like that of heavy weight being dropped on ice and forcing it to break apart. In fact, something that looked like silver frost spread over the map, covering it completely. Within seconds, the entire surface had changed into a crystalline mirror.

"A mirror? Dracula has no reflection in the mirror," Van said, his brow furrowing. "So why a mirror?"

Anna looked at it before saying slowly, "Maybe…maybe to Dracula it's not a mirror."

Instinct drove Van Helsing to touch the icy glass. His eyes widened and Anna gasped as his hand slipped through it, vanishing. Suddenly, he let out a gasp himself and pulled his hand back. "It's cold…" His hand up to his wrist was covered with snowflakes. "And it's snowing."

Anna looked after the hunter as he suddenly turned and dashed toward the armory door. "Where are you going?" she called.

Van stopped and grinned at her. "To get properly dressed and armed. Looks like you'll finally get your action."

End of Chapter 14

Ok, I'm not even going to say "hopefully the next chapter will be up soon". We all know how that turns out. But I will say this…I'm guessing that this story will be ending probably within five chapters at the most. Review and tell me what you think!


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